Life Before We Met
by J.M.Barrie
Summary: What happens if the Digital World never existed, and the six children stumbled upon each other in a most unlikely way, through a life of agony, humiliation and suffering? A morbid ending... a brother's death... PLEASE REVIEW!
1. A Flashback to the Past

**Author's note: This story was written two years ago, at the age of eleven when writing fanfictions was a certain obsession of mine. I've altered practically the entire plot of the original TV series, while adding smidgens of my own ideas. For your information, dear readers, this fanfic is based completely on the life of these six teenagers:**

**+ Takuya Kanbara +**

**+ Kouji Minamoto +**

**+ Izumi Orimoto +**

**+ Junpei Shibayama +**

**+ Tomoki Himi +**

**+ Kouichi Kimura** +

**Imagine their life story without the sudden emergence of them being sucked into a vortex which leads them to a second Dimension - the Digital World. If none of those had happened...**

* * *

"Train 0037 heading off to Shizuoka," The woman's voice thundered through the microphone once more, "Next departure, train 0095 to Nagoya... please wait at platform number 43 – I repeat, next departure, train 0095 to Nagoya... please wait at platform number 43." 

Drawing my blue baseball cap over my eyes, I whisked a quick glimpse at the group of impatient tourists, who were complaining about the delay of the train to Osaka, while their tour-guides had a dispute with the ticket-master. I shifted my feet uneasily off the ground as I clutched onto the rim of the bench, the restless sensation in my head beginning to churn again.

Slowly, my eyes turned sideways to gaze at the teenage boy standing next to the wall, his rippling sapphire orbs gazing at the brochure he was reading. His long black hair was tied into a ponytail with a blue bandanna, which flipped past his shoulders, almost reaching his waist. Clothed in a yellow T-shirt partially concealed in a striped windbreaker and a pair of matching gray slacks, he was quite a sight to see. Girls might have gone trailing after him at first sight, I pondered to myself.

I watched him as the cellular phone he held started ringing out a brief, dulcet tinkle; he stared at it and flipped the latch open. Something made him looked rather bewildered, and the expression on his face startled me extremely. He then suspiciously gazed at the people nearby, probably ensuring that no-one was stalking on him, and departed the waiting hallway, leaving the brochure behind on the seat. I was alarmed. _Where was he going?_

I got up from the bench, almost forgetting where I was, as he strode out of the hallway and into the shadows of the foyer; and immediately, I knew where he was heading to - the elevator _No!_ I shrieked silently to myself, my plans all shattered. _No, please! Kouji, wait for me!_

I darted to the lobby, having to tolerate the pain that plugged my heart like a cork in a bottle, and I was just in time to see the doors of the elevator closing up. I hurried towards the closing elevator, intending to call out to Kouji, but unexpectedly, a sudden pain exploded through my heart like a missile, causing me to lose my footing and I stumbled frontward. Weakly, I got onto my knees and pressed a hand over my left cheek, which began to hurt immensely. Feeling something warm and moist trickling from in between my fingers, I removed my hand from my cheek and to my utmost shock, there was blood soiled on them. _Blood? Am I that terribly injured?_, I thought in dismay, _Drat, I can't stop to think about it now – I've got to catch up with Kouji._

Frantically, my eyes searched the place for an answer, and a sign on the wall caught my attention.

The stairs.

I staggered over to where the arrow was directing at, shambling unsteadily as I went. I hastily sped down the staircase, and before I could get all the way through halfway the vast total of stairs, I tripped over and tumbled down the flight of steps, each of them slashing through my skin with sharp, coarse edges. I shall never forget what was about to happen that time.

White haze and red blood blurred my vision as I landed onto the cold, solid floor of the basement. The foul taste of blood was everywhere in my mouth, and the stench of floor polish filled the air once the usual chaos of the railway station changed into a numb silence. The deathly stillness of the atmosphere was utterly embarrassing.

"Kouji?" I whispered vaguely.

Suddenly, the voice of a man broke into the silence.

"For goodness sake, somebody please get an ambulance!" he exclaimed, "If we leave the child here in such a condition, he'll probably die!"

I managed to suppress a feeble laugh and got up, my body trembling in the motionless air. I was in a dreadful sight – clothes all stained in dark blood, strands of ebony-black hair drooping forlornly over my brow and the exposed whites in my eyes were absorbed in a horrid red. I jostled my way through the gathering of bystanders, and saw Kouji pacing out of the elevator, his eyes still fixed on the cellular phone. I thought he might have witnessed me falling, for his face was slightly panicked as his murky pools of blue met my eyes. Muttering a nervous remark, he hastened on his way to the exit – the last thing I saw of him was the glisten of inky black hair...

Then he was gone.

I shuffled limply towards the door, ignoring the shouts of people behind me and the vague vision I was facing, the determination of tagging after Kouji still deep-rooted in my mind. It was only much later did I realize that what I did was life.

Once I strode out of the station, I found that there were large grey clouds clustering low over the ground, causing the natural richness of the ultramarine sky to turn bleak and overcast. Soon, raindrops drizzled from the murkiness above, splashing onto my blood-spattered clothes – it was raining.

I staggered on, not caring where I was and why I was here; all I was concerned about was to find Kouji and perhaps, get to know him. As I limped along the mud-spattered alleyway, mind packed with questioning thoughts, the rainfall started to get heavier and heavier, until I couldn't endure with the burden any longer. I stripped off my jacket and tucked it under my arms, just to reduce the weight of the water, which drenched into my clothes. This helped a little, so I manage to persist in walking a bit further.

The evening was depressing. I was cold, tired and hungry by the time I arrived at a different section of the city, where the streets were isolated and dark. My fingers were numb and my body was frozen stiff. The streetlamps provided very little light, and it seemed to me that the trees which were planted beside the streets scarcely ever develop healthy and strong. Their branches were all bare and stuck out like jagged fingers of a witch, which appeared to be extremely frightening at night when they flailed about in the chill.

Accidentally, I stumbled over the gutter and scraped my arm onto a piece of broken glass, which were scattered all over the ground in dozens. Blood started to ooze out of the wound and tinged my clothes, causing the worn-out cloth to blush in an awful stain of crimson. I could feel tears sprinting into my eyes as I sprawled on the dirty pavement, a puddle of blended rainwater and blood forming around my clothes. My last hope was gone, and because of my foolishness, I was left out on the street to die.

Not long after that, I heard soft footsteps approaching me.

"Kouji?" I murmured halfheartedly, "Is... is that you?"

Darkness enfolded me as I stood motionless on the ground, which seemed to disappear gradually beneath my feet every minute. The world surrounding me was tinted in a total pitch-black and the threatening echoes from the faraway shadows sent a sudden fear running up my spine like a frightened mouse.

_Where am I? What am I doing here? _Thoughts clouded my mind as I racked my brains, trying to search for an answer but none came at all. The echoes in the distance grew louder each second, so loud until I had to place both my hand over my ears to shield them from the deafening noise. Suddenly, I heard a scream bellowing through the vacant darkness, and I soon recognized the voice as my mother's.

"Mother!" I shrieked, a sudden brain wave reflecting my mind, uncovering the incident eleven years ago. "Mother, why? Why did you do it?"

The surrounding darkness began to clear rapidly the moment I screamed out those words, and no sooner or later, I realized that I was huddled on the straw _tatami_, with my hand clasped over a bleeding gash in my shoulder. My parents were arguing in front of me, and I could see tears streaming down my mother's battered cheeks while my father looked as black as a thundercloud.

"Akiko, how could you do this!" hollered my father, as he raised a hand and slapped my mother, causing her collapse onto the floor, "How could you do this to your own son? It was a good thing I entered the room before you could stab him to his death!"

"Forgive me, Kousei! I promise I will never do that again, I promise!" she wept tearfully, "Please... forgive me..."

"Forgive you!" scorned my father, giving her another violent shove on the shoulder, "Why should I even do so when you made an attempt to murder Kouichi? You can plead for sympathy in a million years, but I will _never_ forgive you!" He pounded on the table with his fist, still glaring at my mother and she burst into tears once more.

"Listen to me!" she screamed, seizing a fallen vegetable knife and brandished it for defense, "Do you even know the reason why I wanted to do the bloodshed? It's because I hate you! I despised you from the beginning we met, if it wasn't for our forced marriage! Do you really think that I would be pleased watching my beloved sons growing into brash, hard-hearted men like you? I would rather die than—"

"Shut up!" hollered back my father, but the merciless expression on his face seemed to wane a little, "I don't want to hear that anymore!"

Swearing violently, he stormed into the nursery and appeared at the entryway with a sleeping child in his arms. My mother stared at the bundle of clothes in horror, her inflamed eyes swollen with tears.

"I'm leaving," he said, trembling, "I'm not allowing my precious son to be brought up in this wretched place, with a _bastard_ like you contaminating his innocent mind!"

"To hell with you!" shrieked my mother, livid with rage. In a sudden spur of movement, she raised her fist and struck him on the jaw with full force, but was thrust aside like a helpless puppy. My father, his mouth dripping with blood, shot her one last look of regret and fled from the house, leaving a trail of red splotches behind him.

My mother was now sobbing loudly, her face buried in her hands and her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. I, who had been entirely ignored throughout the whole scenario, rushed to console her.

"Kouichi... I'm so sorry...," she whispered between choked sobs, "It's that... Daddy and Mommy don't get along so well, and I thought murder was the best way to get out of it..."

"Your father... he betrayed me,"

_Betrayed me..._

I fell to my knees, confusing thoughts beginning to whirl hysterically around my mind in a flurry. I could hear my heart throbbing ceaselessly at the back of my head as the heartbreaking shrieks and angry roars of my parents which once filled the air faded away into a deadly silence. I soon became conscious that I wasn't in the room anymore, but in some kind of deserted beach, where shadows seemed to creep everywhere along the coastline. The murky swirls of deep purplish-blue, laced in a frill of lathery white foam, struck threateningly onto the stretches of black sand I was standing on and ebbed back into the body of dark water with a deafening sigh.

Suddenly, one of the shadows nearest to my feet stretched out a long willowy arm and made a snatch at my legs, dragging me down into the dark spongy sand. I struggled hard and tried lunging out at the shadow's fists which clung onto both my feet, but there was no avail.

The spine-chilling voices which thundered through my ears drowned my cries of agony as I was hauled deeper and deeper into the darkness. Bleeding wounds streaked the white fabric that covered most parts of my legs, drawing thin lines of blood due to the force which plunged against my body like a shattering boulder. The pain at the side of my stomach was excruciating.

I could not put up with the pain any longer. The remaining thoughts crossed my mind as I remembered how my mother had put her loving arms around reassuringly, and soothed me with her low, gentle voice. How I dreamed that I could see my father's kindly face smiling at me again. But it was too late.

I screamed.


	2. These Everlasting Wounds My Heart Bears

"Leave me alone!" cried the twelve-year-old boy, backing into the wall with a folded black laptop clasped in his arms. He lifted his trembling eyes to the two elder boys, who were laughing sardonically.

"Takeshi, I can't believe that this little brat we're dealing with now is your _brother_," said one boy, grinning, "How old is he? Twelve years or twelve months?"

"Go away," he croaked, feeling the tears running down his cheeks.

"Oh look, now he's crying," mocked the boy unsympathetically, "He's is just too pathetic for his age. Kids are lucky nowadays; they're spoilt with loads of those expensive high-tech stuff. I don't even get what's worth a pair of raggedy sandals for my birthday."

"So Tomoki, are you going to hand over that laptop or what?" said the other, "Do you want a good shaking?"

Tomoki looked at their menacing expressions for a moment, and then desperately blurted out, "No! You are not to take this away from me!"

"Hey! Stop that brutal act at once and leave the poor kid alone!"

The shuffling of feet was heard, and a boy, slightly younger than Takeshi himself, emerged from the shadows of the alleyway. The three boys turned to stare at the newcomer. He looked about fifteen, but his expression showed great confidence and strength. Shaggy auburn hair framed the boy's slightly bronzed face, and Tomoki could make out two brown eyes that seemed to glare vibrantly beneath flashes of sunlight. He was clad in a simple red T-shirt with baggy biscuit-coloured breeches to complete the 'tough-guy' look. A pair of square safety-goggles dangled around his neck, making him look more ferocious than ever.

The first boy flinched, his spectacles practically falling off his nose from gaping so hard. However, Takeshi's irritated grimace quickly faded into a menacing smirk, as he tightening his grip onto Tomoki's arm, making him yelp out in agony. The brunette frowned.

"Takeshi Himi," he mumbled, his voice faltering with silent hatred.

"Takuya Kanbara, what a surprise,"

"Tormenting the smaller ones again, I presume?" Takuya scowled, avoiding eye contact with the older boy's steely glare. Takeshi eased his tense body and released his squirming victim, gazing disdainfully at the teenager's dishevelled mane that glistened under excessive amounts of gel. Plastering on a satisfied smile, he ran his slender fingers through his own lustrous hair with unmasked admiration.

"Show-off,"

Takeshi advanced towards him until his chin met face-to-face with Takuya's sweat-polished brow (he was a head taller than him). Takuya gritted his teeth as a powerful fist grasped his collarless shirt and lifted him off the ground. Nausea swept over him like a plummeting surge of salty sea-spray and he lurched backwards, eyes nevertheless unwavering.

A flash of cold metal crushed the boy's dignity; flooding memories of blazing wrath as intense as the thirsty flame-tongues in a smoldering fire into his mind.

_The watch was exquisite, so perfect that it looked as though it had been chiseled from a slab of silver by the skilled hands of an expert. The dial was disc-shaped, with twelve gold numbers engraved in the rounded plate, and attached at each end of it were straps of genuine leather. _

_ Takuya caressed it tenderly, his chocolate-brown orbs shimmering wistfully at the splendor of its workmanship. This was the very stuff of his dreams, a watch – not just any watch, but a watch that would gain his classmates' approval and earn him their respect for him as a Somebody, instead of an underprivileged with lack of daily pocket-money. _

_ The salesman tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter, occasionally darting glances at his wristwatch and producing a yellow, roughly-squared fabric from his trouser pocket to wipe his spectacles. Blushing, Takuya grinned sheepishly and jingled his cloth bag (discolored and congealed with grime) that was tied with a bit of cord, deciding at once that he would buy it. _

_ After the money was raked over into the salesman's hands and the watch delicately bedded into a little casing among bulges of mauve velvet, he bounced out of the shop, as ecstatic as a child who'd just received a present. Hoarding his life's saving in a secret depository he buried under his bed had been a grueling and costly task, but every coin was worth it. Takuya congratulated himself cheerfully, so thrilled with his new possession that he was quite oblivious to two suspicious figures lurking in the background. _

_ He swallowed the lump in his throat, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. His body was slumped on the freshly rain-sprinkled loam, as frail as a half-starved cat; his face, limbs, and other parts of his anatomy which were bare were encrusted in clotting soil and bleeding cuts. Even his clothes were stained with dirt. _

_ "Katsuko, stop hasslin' the stupid schmuck and come over here," _

_ Takuya felt himself being thrust aside, his face shoved into the moistened loam, and a sharp pain seemed to have wrenched at his ankle. The sound of a box being brusquely yanked open, escorted with a trace of muffled clinking, drained his sun-darkened hue from his skin instantly. _

_ "What the hell— what's that?" _

_ "A stinkin' scrap of metal. Why ambushin' the louse simply to pinch his cast-offs? I told yer' before - we could've pocketed somethin' better from that bigheaded jackass – what was his name again – you know, the fat bloke whose pop manages the Italian Latte Pastry Corporation," _

_ "We can't pull the wool over the chump's eyes every time, Takeshi. If his old tiger ever discovers this swindling of his beloved offspring, we'll be damned. He'd jellify us," _

_ There was a pause, as if the other speaker was brooding over this setback. Then, in a casual voice, he mumbled, "The geezer wouldn't find out... he's as dippy as his own son," _

_ "I suppose so," _

_ "Yup," _

_ "At any rate, this set of recycled batteries would bring home the bacon," _

_ "Bacon?" _

_ "Good, solid cash, I mean. It's a terrific way of harvesting money–" _

_ "I don't get it. Why would anyone buy this trash? Nowadays, folks are rummagin' about in the shops to get their scroungin' hands onto one of those exclusive watches with watertight batteries installed in 'em. This one looks as though it was disgorged from a one-hundred-year-old hippopotamus' gullet in the nineteenth century," _

_ "Wait, just listen. I know a chap who'll be interested in swapping a few coins for this prehistoric gadget," _

_ "Now that's a thought," remarked the other heartily, "Let's now get a move on and hire a cab." _

_ "What about him?" _

_ "Who d'ya mean ?" _

_ "The pint-sized mongrel," _

_ "We can dump him here. It's easy as eatin' pie. Speaking of pies, why don't we grab a mouthful of Old Flab's latest Tropical Mango-and-Banana Quiche as we hustle downtown?" _

_ "Splendid," _

_Takuya grinded his teeth and prodded his fingers into the grime, wishing that the ground would suddenly open and swallow him up. _

With things figured out, Takuya dug his fingernails into Takeshi's flesh, causing him to release his grip on the red stretch of fabric and yelp in pain.

"You little bastard-"

"Takeshi, you're one fucking helluva human thesaurus," Takuya barked, seething with anger, "You're fucking impressive, but you can always admit your cowardice, you fucking monster."

The words just escaped from his mouth without further deliberation. Takeshi's face paled at this outburst, his jaw dropped; he felt his Adam's apple bobbling laboriously behind the contours of his throat. Suddenly, he felt helpless. He felt _helpless_ standing opposite to this enraged boy, whose emotions had been hauntingly provoked by the past.

_The fucking past, _his mind moaned in anguish, _when I started it all._

Takeshi fell to his knees, regretting the day he was born. Tomoki's bloodshot eyes, sunken with fear, widened as he watched his brother humbly conceded defeat before the person he once victimized.

Takuya then patted Tomoki's head and gave him a sideways glance, baring his pearly-white teeth into a lopsided grin.

"Come on, little fella',"

His face was alight with admiration as he willingly took his proffered hand, allowing his savior to lead him away from the possible dangers that might involve himself.

* * *

**Footnote: Apologies for such straightforward writing! I've been quite clueless while working on this chapter, so the words are quite unrefined and hollow... but here's the good news. What'll you say if I snap myself back into consciousness and start polishing up thescenarios of the next chapter? Savvy?**


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